


Still I Rise

by Faintdegree



Series: Adahlena Lavellan [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Deviates From Canon, F/M, Fix-It, M/M, Post-Trespasser, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 15:26:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8672650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faintdegree/pseuds/Faintdegree
Summary: " Deshanna's brows furrowed as she reached into the envelope, drawing out a number of letters all tied together with string. They'd each yellowed in varying degrees, the corners worn away with constant reading. “How am I supposed to believe this, Adah? That the gods still walk among us, that, what? Our god of deceit and trickery is raising an army? That he plans to tear down the veil? How can anyone believe this?”“I'd asked myself the same thing several years ago, when Corypheus had risen to power.” She answered, not daring to look at her former mentor. “How could someone look at this world and deem it unworthy when so much worth still existed?” She shook her head. She knew exactly how, knew just what was going through Solas' mind. She had been the same in that awful twisted future in Redcliffe, had wanted nothing more than to go back, to change everything. Nothing there had mattered. It wasn't real. "





	

Clan Lavellan, as many as they were, had integrated into Wycomes elf population almost seamlessly. She'd never thought to see it, Dalish and City Elves working together with the human nobles. Funny, she thought, traveling the well worn streets of the alienage, how war brings people together.

The vhenadahl in the centre had been decorated in fine ribbons, murals depicting their gods in vibrant colours. She wanted to scream, to spit at it, rip the paint from the bark. How could they still worship these beings? These _gods_ who's only claim to power was through death and destruction. But how could she judge them? She had been as they were, once. Devoting even her skin to their god of craft. She only knew of their true nature because of what she'd seen, and who had shown her. It was through no fault of their own that they were ignorant to the truth.

She traced her fingers along the worn clay of the building beside her. Once, she assumed, it would have been painted with colourful designs to match those of the sacred tree. Once, elves would have gathered here in celebration. Raucous events that would likely span the length of a week. Now though, the only signs of life we're that of dim candle lights flickering through the box windows of their homes.

These people, who had loved ones and lives and hopes and dreams… they had no idea what was to come. That their wishes meant nothing to those who served Fen'harel.

She frowned at the thought of him, dropping her hand from the wall and pushing forward through the streets.

Some of the Divines spies had sent word that agents of her former lover we're amongst the city elves population. Of course, this hadn't surprised her much. Solas was nothing except resourceful. She shouldn't be surprised that he'd try and use her family as an asset.

She made her way upwards, towards the market square passing the large tree with not so much as a second glance. If Deshanna would be anywhere, it would be in the upper reaches of the Alienage. She would no doubt have refused, but Deshanna would have been respected amongst her peers and at their instance, she no doubt agreed to one of the more substantial dwellings.

The market square was larger than she thought it would be. The buildings that lined the bazaar we're adorned with bunting that crisscrossed from roof to roof. Large wooden stalls had been erected with signs in haphazard script explaining what wares they sold, lanterns hanging off the rafters that connected them. It was rustic, but in better shape than other alienages she'd visited in the recent years.

There was a small noise to her left, a pebble being brushed against the ground and Adahlena reached for a blade that was no longer there.

“Who are you?” asked the small figure that had emerged from the shadow, face still shrouded in darkness.

“Lay down your weapon and I shall tell you.” She may not be able to cast as she had before with two arms, but she had fought and won against stronger men than this with less.

The figure stepped forward, drawing back it's hood.

“Nydha,” Adahlena breathed, relief flooding her chest. It felt as if it had been an age since she'd seen anyone from her clan. The children she'd left before the conclave we're bound to be in their late teens, possibly even their twenties. The younger children probably had forgotten her altogether.

She rushed forward as Nydha lowered her bow and wrapped her arm around the younger elfs waif like frame. Pulling away, she placed a finger beneath Nydha's face, tilting her chin as if to inspect her. She'd received her Vallaslin, intricate branches that depicted the Goddess Mythal. Adahlena sighed, ignoring the voices that began to whisper in the back of her mind.

“You have grown da'len.”

Nydha rolled her eyes.

“Children tend to do that over a number of years _hahren.”_ Her tone was stern, a harsh reminder of the time she'd spent away.

“Correct, as usual.” Adahlena murmured, tracing the dark green vines that twisted along the younger elf’s temples. “As much as I have missed you, I have important business with the keeper and I find myself unsure of where she resides.”

Nydha's brows furrowed, a small crease showing her confusion. “She's in the upper quarter, near the edges of the alienage.” She said, hooking her bow across her back. Several hares hung slack on her shoulder and she pulled at their string so that they rested across her chest. “She didn't tell anyone you were coming.”

“She didn't know.” Was her reply as she grabbed the redheaded elf by the arm, steering her away from the alley's entrance. “Could you take me to her? I don't know where the upper quarter is, da'len.”

Nydha nodded, eyeing Adahlena as they made their way towards the outer reaches of the alienage.

“You received your vallaslin.” Adahlena said, hoping to make idle conversation. Nydha grunted.

“Yes.” She replied, pushing her shoulder into a jammed gate and holding it open for her. The young elfs eyes glanced over Adahlena's missing appendage, growing wide with surprise but she quickly before concealing it with a scowl. It would be strange, she supposed, to see someone who you had grown up with return so drastically different.

“And you chose Mythal.” Adhalena paused. “Is there a specific reason?”

Nydha's gaze flickered towards her for a brief moment before turning away. The gate closed with a loud bang. “No.” She said, her tone curt. “There isn't a specific reason.”

Adahlena nodded and they continued their way to the upper reaches of the alienage. The houses grew bigger as did the space between them. The paths we're clear of debris, the dirt giving way to cobblestoned roads that wound their way towards the human parts of Wycome. She could see her people making homes in a place like this, imagine children playing as adults went about their business. She pictured her parents selling their wares by the gates, pocketing what little coin their crafts could make.

“How have the city elves been treating you?” Adahlena asked. Nydha looked up for a second, face expressionless.

“They were pretty open.” She said, offhandedly. “I guess they were just happy the humans weren't going to be slaughtering them. And that they have more say in what happens now. The keeper has really helped give them a voice.”

Adah hummed, “She's like that.”

Nydha stopped them by a small house. It was simple, wood and clay with bunting hanging along it's door frame. But it had a familiarity that Adah couldn't place. Perhaps it was the red painted door that reminded her of the aravels? Or maybe the flowers that seemed to bloom almost from the walls themselves that reminded her of the ruins scattered amongst the forests.

“Keeper Deshanna is in there,” Nydha said, motioning with her head towards the house. “She's usually awake till late, anyway.”

“Thank you, Nydhalan.” Adah said, bending down to place a small peck to the young girls crown. Nydha groaned, swatting the other woman away with a childlike whine.

“I'm not a child.” She pouted and Adah laughed.

“Of course not da'len. You should get home, those hares will not skin themselves.”

Nydha nodded, turning on her heel and stalking away back towards the lower stretches of the alienage. Adahlena had been as Nydha in her youth. As though the world had owed her something, angered by the unfairness of it all. In hindsight, she thought as she rapped her knuckles on the wooden door, she'd been right. The world was unfair.

 

* * *

 

The keeper had changed little in the years since her departure. She still bore that ever knowing look on her face, as though she knew each misdeed you had ever partaken in and was plotting your punishment. Her hair had began to Grey in areas, along her temples and small sections of her tight knot were considerably lighter than before. She'd began to lean heavily on her staff, pale knuckles white with the strain.

“You surprise an old lady with your presence da'len. We had not expected to see you so soon after your Inquisition disbanded.” She'd said as she'd made her way to one of the dining chairs. And odd sight for her once homeless keeper.

“It was never my Inquisition hahren, I was but one part of a whole.”

Deshanna dismissed her claim with a wave. “You did not come here to discuss the inner workings of your chantry run institution. Sit and speak.”

Ever the pragmatist, she thought as she took the seat opposite.

“Some agents sent word that a man had visited the clan.” Deshanna nodded. “That he had been asking of me.”

“That is correct. Though I do not see why such a thing would require _agents_ to send word back to you.”

Adhalena swallowed, fingers drumming along her knee. How could she tell the woman who had raised her, who had taught her her peoples history that she had fallen for their most feared god? That this man who had questioned about Adahlenas life was the dread wold himself.

“It requires my attention, hahren, because this man is dangerous and is not who he claims he is.” Deshanna pursed her lips, hands now resting on the table. “I would not have asked if it were not important.”

The keeper nodded, “Very well. He'd arrived a little before noon, dressed in traveling gear. He'd mentioned in passing working alongside a Lavellan and had enquired if they had been from this clan.” She paused, eyeing Adahlena as she spoke. “You are not prone to theatrics, though I confess my confusion over your concern. This man was harmless, he could barely stand when he'd entered the city gates.”

_Beware the forms of_ _Fen'Harel_ _! The Dread Wolf comes in humble guises, a wanderer who knows much of the_ _People_ _and their_ _spirits_ _._

Adahlena shook her head, chasing away the memories of gods and their many forms.

“His name is Solas.” She said quietly, eyes cast towards her hands that not wrung themselves in her lap. “Once, he was a trusted companion… a friend.” She chanced a glance to her former keeper. Deshanna was eyeing her, her lips pressed into a hard line. “Once my fight with Corypheus was concluded he vanished. I searched for him for a time, but he was gone. Not even my best agents could find any trace of him.”

“So you are looking for him? I still do not understand how he is a danger to us if he was a _friend_ da'len.”

“He lied to me.” She murmured. “He lied to everyone. The man I saw, Solas, was but one part of a very complex facade. He'd created this persona, and I fell for it. We all did.”

“Then who is he? Really.”

“You have heard rumours of our kin vanishing, hahren? That Fen'Harel has risen again and his agents now scout out elves to fuel his rebellion?”

“Rumours at best. Clan Sabrae have sent word of these so called agents in Kirkwall, and that they are nothing more than a passing fancy of some flat ear.”

“Do not take me for a fool Deshanna. This is not some phase, this is not some city elf to be dismissed as some child. Fen'Harel, our _God_ of trickery has returned and seeks to tear down the veil and bring the time of our ancestors back.”

Deshanna frowned, the mark of Andruil creasing on her brow. “Da'len, to do so would bring spirits into the living world. Why would _Fen'Harel_ want that?”

“There is too much to say and such little time to tell it in.” Adahlena sighed, leaning back in her chair. Reaching into her breast pocket she grabbed an envelope, tattered and worn as it was and handed it across the table. “Letters,” she clarified, noting the confused look Deshanna had given her. “Correspondence between me and Sol- Fen'Harel. There are instructions included that I wish for you to follow.” With that she stood, the chair scraping backwards against the stone floor with a hiss.

Deshanna's brows furrowed as she reached into the envelope, drawing out a number of letters all tied together with string. They'd each yellowed in varying degrees, the corners worn away with constant reading. “How am I supposed to believe this, Adah? That the gods still walk among us, that, what? Our god of deceit and trickery is raising an army? That he plans to tear down the veil? How can anyone believe this?”

“I'd asked myself the same thing several years ago, when Corypheus had risen to power.” She answered, not daring to look at her former mentor. “How could someone look at this world and deem it unworthy when so much worth still existed?” She shook her head. She knew exactly how, knew just what was going through Solas' mind. She had been the same in that awful twisted future in Redcliffe, had wanted nothing more than to go back, to change everything. Nothing there had mattered. _It wasn't real._

Deshanna made to stand but Adahlena dismissed her with the wave of her hand. “I came here to say goodbye as well as gather information on this agent.” she sighed, turning to finally face the woman who had raised her in part. “I will likely not return this time, hahren.”

Deshanna breathed, a ragged sound that made Adah's heart clench. “If I had known I'd be sending you to your grave that day before the conclave I-” Her smile was tight as she reached for the younger woman. “You do an old woman proud, da'len. Always. I will follow your letter and keep the clan safe.”

“Ma serannas.” She answered, squeezing Deshannas hand before turning towards the door. "Ama'eth."

 

**Author's Note:**

> all translations taken from project elvhen by FenxShiral
> 
> Ma Serannas - My thanks  
> Ama'eth - Stay safe (Ama- keep, Eth- safety)
> 
> Comments are welcome as is any criticism


End file.
